


somethin' like a phenomena, baby

by souhaiite



Category: the GazettE (Band)
Genre: Car Sex, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Real Names, just barely pre-kai which i feel bad about but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 12:50:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/souhaiite/pseuds/souhaiite
Summary: "Fine," Kouyou sighs again. "I guess I don't want you to get murdered." Reaching out, he takes one of the guitar cases from Akira, moving it out of the way. "Like, what would people say if we had a dead bassist?" he continues, grinning as he bumps his knee against the case. "No one would ever want to come to one of our lives ever again, and then where would we be?""Thanks, man," Akira says dryly, sliding one knee into the back of the van and leaning forward to carefully fit the guitar case into place. "I can feel the love, you know, it really feels like you give a shit." He leans back and Kouyou catches the edge of a grin on his face, half-hidden in darkness. "If I die, I'm haunting your ass forever."(or: uruha and reita mess around in the back of aoi's van after a gig, because they're idiots)





	somethin' like a phenomena, baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladadadi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladadadi/gifts).

> warnings for semi-public car (van) sex, marking, biting, smoking I THINK THAT'S EVERYTHING
> 
> this takes place just before yune leaves and just before kai joins (sorry baby, i'll getcha in the next one, i promise)
> 
> something like a phenomena, baby  
you're something like a phenomena  
something like a phenomena, baby  
you're gonna get your body off  
(phenomena, yeah yeah yeahs)
> 
> for marie. ♥

"Hey, Kou-chan," comes a huffed voice near the back of the van, and Kouyou twists where he's sat perched on a parking bumper. He grins when he catches sight of Akira. "_Hey_," Akira repeats, more forcefully. "Little help?"

Kouyou pushes himself up, edging between cars in the club parking lot, and leans around the open door at the back of the van. "With what?" 

Akira shoots him an impressively unimpressed look, his arms trembling with exertion. He seems to be attempting to play a game of equipment Tetris in the back of their van, guiding two guitar cases to either side of the massive bass drum at the same time. "You're supposed to help me," he says, still breathless. His flushed cheeks glisten with sweat in the light from the streetlights. "That's why you're _here_, and— and I'm older than you, so—"

"Oh, shut up, Aki-chan, you're only older than me by like, a week," Kouyou protests.

"_Two weeks!_" Akira's shoulders are really shaking now, struggling to push the guitar cases in past the amps and all the cords. "Before I drop something, please! Yuu's going to _kill_ me if I wreck his guitar!"

Kouyou sighs. Yuu _would_ kill Akira without hesitation, and then Kouyou would be left without a best friend. He _likes_ having Akira as his best friend. 

"Fine," Kouyou sighs again. "I guess I don't want you to get murdered." Reaching out, he takes one of the guitar cases from Akira, moving it out of the way. "Like, what would people _say_ if we had a dead bassist?" he continues, grinning as he bumps his knee against the case. "No one would ever want to come to one of our lives _ever_ again, and then where would we be?" 

"Thanks, man," Akira says dryly, sliding one knee into the back of the van and leaning forward to carefully fit the guitar case into place. "I can feel the love, you know, it really feels like you give a shit." He leans back and Kouyou catches the edge of a grin on his face, half-hidden in darkness. "If I die, I'm haunting your ass forever."

"That's fair," Kouyou replies, snickering. "I like my ass, too. It's small but mighty."

Akira rolls his eyes. "Gross. Give me the other guitar, you weirdo," he says, holding out a hand. Kouyou passes the case over, staring down at the rest of the mess of equipment scattered on the pavement around them. It takes a while to fit everything in, but working together they manage well enough. 

There isn't much room left in the back, but they settle on the rear bumper to wait for everyone else to show up so they can go home. Kouyou lights up a cigarette, the flint wheel on his lighter digging into the pad of his thumb. Before he can even take a drag, Akira snatches the cigarette from between his fingers. 

"Hey," Kouyou says, watching the smoke drift from between Akira's lips. He makes a swipe for the cigarette, but Akira just jerks back out of the way, his eyes catching the blue-white glow from the street lights. "C'mon, Aki-chan, you have your own."

"But I like yours better," Akira says, taking another drag as he leans back on his hands. He lets the cigarette hang from his mouth, filter stuck to his upper lip. It's stupid, _he's_ stupid, but Kouyou can't tear his eyes away from him.

Kouyou scoffs. "You're just lazy."

The corner of Akira's mouth lifts. "That too," he agrees on another plume of smoke. 

When Kouyou reaches out to take the cigarette back this time, Akira doesn't move away. One of Kouyou's knuckles grazes the edge of Akira's upper lip, and Kouyou shivers at a sudden gust of wind weaving through the parking lot. He hunches back in his hoodie and inhales, pulls the smoke deep down into his lungs before exhaling it back out for the breeze to sweep away. 

Akira's fingers wrap around Kouyou's wrist, lifting his hand up to his mouth so he can take another drag. The brush of his lips tickles and Kouyou's fingers twitch. He rolls his tongue in his mouth, considering, before leaning forward and nudging their lips together. Akira lets the smoke trickle into Kouyou's mouth with a little hummed laugh, low and pleased. His fingers tighten around Kouyou's wrist.

Kouyou blows the smoke out his nose with a snicker. Akira licks into his mouth with another hum of pleasure, pulling him closer with his other hand. Kouyou likes this. He's _always_ liked this. Akira smells familiar, like cigarette smoke and post-concert adrenaline; like sweat and rain and _Akira_. His best friend for so long Kouyou almost can't remember what life could possibly have been like without him, all memory of those years gone hazy and lonely with time. 

Akira always makes sweet little noises when they kiss, half-muffled into Kouyou's mouth, and Kouyou just wants _more_. More and more of this, of everything, of whatever Akira will give to him. Akira's skin is warm and smooth under Kouyou's questing fingers, slipping up underneath his shirt to grip at a jutting hipbone. 

Releasing his hold on Kouyou's wrist, Akira slides his hand up along Kouyou's arm, pushing up his hoodie sleeve and leaving zinging sparks of pleasure in his wake. Kouyou gasps at the graze of Akira's teeth along the top of his tongue, and he shifts closer, pushing Akira back. He bumps into something and Akira bites at Kouyou's lip a bit too hard. 

Hissing out a breath through his teeth, Kouyou draws away just enough to stub the cigarette out on the bumper before it burns him or sets fire to the van. He rubs his palm across his lips, wincing at the sting. "Fucker," he says. 

Akira's eyes are wide, expression flickering somewhere between guilt and glee. "Sorry," he replies, squirming against one of the tom drums that Kouyou shoved him up against. He licks his lips. "I was just surprised."

"Uh huh," Kouyou murmurs, his eyes dropping back to Akira's mouth. He finds himself leaning back in without even the conscious thought to do so, drawn in as if magnetized. "Sure you were."

Akira meets him eagerly, his legs falling apart to let Kouyou nestle right up against him. both of his hands slip up into Kouyou's hair, and Kouyou _likes_ this. He likes the wet slide of Akira's tongue in his mouth, his huffed breaths, the smack of their lips as they move and shift against each other. Akira tightens his grip in Kouyou's hair, tipping his head back to deepen the kiss and suck at his tongue, and Kouyou groans. 

"Do you have anything?" Akira breathes against Kouyou's mouth. 

Kouyou shakes his head, rocking his hips down against Akira's, gratified to feel him stiffening up against his thigh already. "Don't need it," he says. 

Akira tips his head to the side, grinning. "No?" 

"No," Kouyou says, cupping Akira's jaw in his hand and kissing him again, nipping at his bottom lip sharp enough to draw a whimper from the back of Akira's throat. 

They haven't done more than kiss, ever, but Kouyou's still feeling that electricity popping and crackling beneath his skin from being onstage. He can do this. "I'm gonna make you cum all over yourself," he says, with more confidence than is probably warranted. His hands are shaking. It's fine. 

"Are you?" Akira struggles to sit up under Kouyou's weight pinning him down, his eyes wide and excited. He wiggles across the van floor until he can lie flat in the space that remains and ends up bracketed by the bass drum and a cymbal. Kouyou bites the inside of his lip to quell a smile. Fuck, but he's cute, though. Sometimes. "Really?" His voice cracks, just a little. 

"Shut up," Kouyou says, pressing their mouths back together. "Yeah, I am." 

It takes more coordination than Kouyou expects it to, rerouting enough brainpower to focus on getting the fastenings of their pants undone. After too long a moment's struggle, he gets his cock out and pushes his hand underneath the waistband on Akira's boxers. Akira gasps, lifting his head up, his forehead pressed against Kouyou's chin. 

"Kouyou—" Akira stutters out a whine, his hands gripping Kouyou's upper arms, fingertips digging in hard enough to bite into his skin even through the hoodie. "Kou-chan, please—"

"I've got you," Kouyou breathes, curling his fingers around Akira's cock and giving him an experimental stroke, rubbing the palm of his hand across the tip of it. The shaft pulses against his fingers, hot and getting noticeably harder, because of _Kouyou_. "Fuck, that's sexy," he mutters, tightening his grip and rubbing over Akira again, faster. 

Akira makes a noise as if he'd been punched in the gut, his whole body tense and trembling. His nails scrabble for purchase before his arms settle around Kouyou's neck instead, clinging like he half-expects Kouyou to try to get up and leave him hanging. He spreads his thighs apart and pushes up into Kouyou's hand. "Please," his voice comes out urgent, head tipping up so his lips graze Kouyou's jaw. "Please, please,"

but Kouyou doesn't plan on going anywhere. "I've got you," he repeats as he starts stroking Akira off in earnest. It's too dry, and he leans back to spit into his palm, stretching his hand to fit his fingers around both their cocks. Akira's hips jump at the contact and he moans against Kouyou's throat. "Ah, _fuck_."

Kouyou twists his wrist a bit, fingers sliding wetly over the heads of their cocks. He ducks his head to press their mouths back together, biting at Akira's lip. His grip tightens almost out of reflex, and Akira all but mewls. It's good. Fuck, it's so good. Akira makes needy little circles with his hips and his elbow keeps banging into one of the drums but he doesn't even seem to notice. 

Why didn't they do this sooner? Kouyou could kick himself. He grinds down against Akira, groaning into Akira's mouth at the slick glide of their cocks against each other. Akira's hand slides up, fingers trembling as they curl into Kouyou's hair, his head tipping back. Kouyou's mouth drifts, catching him on the chin to his jaw, down his throat. He presses his lips to the juncture where Akira's neck meets his shoulder.

"Feels so good, Kou-chan... Please, don't stop, it feels so good..."

When Kouyou bites at the base of his neck, Akira jerks up into Kouyou's fist with a loud, hissed curse. He tugs at Kouyou's hair, gripping tight, and Kouyou laughs. Akira's shifts under Kouyou's weight, flailing before he manages to get a leg hooked around Kouyou's, using him as leverage to fuck up into Kouyou's fist. 

The cymbals and Yune's fucking tambourine rattle from the force of their rutting against each other, and Kouyou smirks against Akira's collarbone. "I have to say," Kouyou manages, "you're a _vantastic_ ride, Aki-chan." He shakes with barely suppressed giggles as Akira lets out a loud, unimpressed groan. 

"God, I hate you," Akira mutters. His voice hitches into a gasp as Kouyou sweeps his tongue over the bitemark he'd left earlier. Kouyou opens his mouth, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. "Fuck, Kou-chan, wait, no— no marks—" 

In contrast to his breathless, hoarse words, Akira curls his fingers in Kouyou's hair even tighter, holding him in place so he couldn't get away even if he wanted to. Kouyou grins against his skin and they're pressed so close together, he _feels_ the shudder rustle down Akira's spine. He licks over the mark and Akira's legs spasm around Kouyou.

"We have concealer," Kouyou murmurs, bracing his elbow on the floor to tug down the collar of Akira's t-shirt and leave a constellation of bruises across Akira's chest. He twists his wrist as he strokes their cocks, thumbing across the heads on every upstroke. "I'll do your makeup until it's gone, how about that?" Once he's finished marking up Akira's chest, he moves back up to that first bruise and bites down again, harder.

Almost at once, Akira sucks in a harsh, sharp breath and shakes, his whole body stiffening up as he comes apart with a loud moan that catches both of them off guard. His hand clenches and unclenches in Kouyou's hair as he struggles to catch his breath, his cum splattering hot across his quivering belly and dribbling down the backs of Kouyou's fingers.

Fuck. Kouyou keeps stroking them both, easing Akira through it and chasing after his own orgasm, until Akira whines about oversensitivity. When Kouyou lets him go, though, Akira's free hand shoots down from Kouyou's shoulder to curl his hand back around him. "Shit, alright," Kouyou mutters as both their hands twine around their cocks, tightening the grip. 

"Come on," Akira whispers, his voice gone low and rasping. Kouyou can feel his balls tightening up already, aided by the way the rough callouses on the tips of Akira's fingers feel rubbing across his sensitive skin. "Come on, Kou-chan, cum on me— I want to feel it—" Kouyou shudders and comes with a groan, his hips jerking into Akira's fist. 

Splatters of cum shoot up between the press of their bodies, hitting Akira on the underside of his chin. Akira twitches, blinking up at Kouyou in surprise. "Damn, were you going for a money shot or something?" he asks, his voice still fucked-out and sounding way hotter than he has any right being. 

Kouyou's cock gives another feeble little twitch in response, and he gasps as Akira's fingers tighten around the head, milking out the last few drops. "Maybe I just wanted to get it in your eye," Kouyou replies, shoving Akira's hands away. "You don't know."

Snickering, Akira sprawls out on his back for a moment, sated and boneless. "Fuck," he sighs, and Kouyou feels the graze of his knuckles as he slides a hand between them. Kouyou looks down, sitting back on his heels. Akira trails his fingers through their mingled release puddled on his stomach and Kouyou's mouth falls open in shock as Akira lifts those fingers to his mouth to suck them clean.

"What the fuck," slips past Kouyou's lips before he can bite them back, because — because — _really?_ What the fuck? Akira's not allowed to be _hot_, what the fuck is _happening?_ Before he even registers what he's doing, Kouyou grabs Akira's hand up to his mouth to lick off the rest off. He pulls a face at the bitter taste, sticking out his tongue. "Ugh," he whines, "that's awful."

Akira wiggles his fingers in Kouyou's hold, grinning. "I don't know," he says. "I didn't think it was that bad."

What the _fuck_. What the fuck sort of weird, Invasion of the Body Snatchers bullshit is this? Kouyou scowls down at Akira. "What, you'd swallow?" he asks, leaning forward and resting his free hand on the van floor beside Akira's hip. "If you sucked me off, you'd let me cum in your mouth and you'd swallow it?"

"Ah," Akira says, teasing grin fading from his face as he blinks up at Kouyou. "Maybe?" he answers, a touch hesitant. "Well— probably, I mean, I guess it's polite, and I _know_ you're not having any more sex than I am—"

"—Excuse _you_—"

"—So you're clean, right? Yeah," Akira continues as if Kouyou hadn't interrupted him, sounding much more certain now. "Yeah, I'd swallow if it was yours." 

Kouyou stares at Akira, speechless. Well, fuck. That's certainly a thing. Akira shifts a bit underneath the weight of Kouyou's scrutiny and he swallows, loud in the stillness. Kouyou strokes his thumb over the backs of Akira's fingers, his mind whirring. 

(They should talk about this.)

Akira tugs his hand from Kouyou's and Kouyou lets him, distracted as this new data rapidly slots into his mental 'Suzuki Akira, Best Friend' file — expanding and adjusting what he already knew about Akira to make room for _this_ weirdness. Akira's fingers slide around the nape of Kouyou's neck, instead, and Kouyou can't drag himself into the present fast enough to catch himself when Akira tugs him down.

They smash into each other, forehead to nose, each of them swearing a blue streak at the sudden, sharp flare of pain. Akira's eyes are streaming with tears, his hand cupped over his nose. Kouyou reels back with a groan, rubbing over his forehead.

Ah. There he is. There's the Akira Kouyou knows.

"I think my nose is broken," Akira says dully.

"My forehead isn't hard enough for that, don't be a baby," Kouyou replies with a laugh, his heart beating a little faster when he sees the corner of Akira's mouth twitch in response. "Could you give me a little _warning_ next time? You clumsy fuck."

"Fuck you, no..." Akira's voice comes out more nasal than usual, his eyes still glassy with tears. "Hey..." He says after a few moments. "Am I bleeding?"

Kouyou gingerly lifts Akira's hand, peering underneath. It's hard to tell in what little light reaches them nestled as they are between instruments and equipment, but... "Maybe a little," he admits, sacrificing his own hoodie sleeve as tribute to help quell the flood. 

"My hero," comes Akira's voice, slightly muffled. "You're such an asshole."

(They don't talk about it.)

Yune finds them some time later basking in their dubiously glorious afterglow, laughing and bitching at each other in equal turns. In that time, they'd managed to clean themselves up using the inside of Akira's t-shirt and were fully dressed again, but Kouyou's still sitting on top of Akira with his sleeve plastered to his nose by the time Yune peers around the still-open door of the van at them.

"Ah," he says.

Kouyou leaps off of Akira as if he'd been electrocuted, sneakers hitting the pavement hard. He wobbles, catching himself on the door. "It's, uh," he begins, "it's not what it looks like! I finally snapped and was smothering him to death, and—" 

Yune just gives Kouyou a _look_. Kouyou wilts, his shoulders lifting up around his ears. That's fair. He turns, perching on the bumper and lighting up another cigarette. 

"It's exactly what it looks like, but we didn't make a huge mess," Akira says. "Well, except for this." He gestures to some of the blood still caked on his face. 

Yune shrugs, the corner of his mouth quirking as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Doesn't matter to me much anymore what you did, I guess," he says.

Kouyou's gut gives a sudden, uncomfortable swoop not unlike stumbling off an unexpected curb. His shoulders creep up even higher. He draws a knee up to his chest, not protesting when he feels Akira sit up beside him and steal the cigarette from his hand _again_. "I guess," Kouyou echoes, staring down at his beat-up, old sneakers. 

After weeks of intense discussion and arguments, they've all come to an agreement about it. Yune wants to move on to different bands, try out different directions. Takanori says he knows a guy who knows a guy that might take Yune's place, Yutaka or something. It's okay. They're _okay_. 

Kouyou frowns. It being _okay_ doesn't make it suck any less, though. He hates goodbyes more than anything. 

"The others are on their way," Yune says. "They were settling up the tab at the bar and talking with the manager about future gigs." He raises his eyebrows. "Nice hickeys, Suzuki-kun." Akira slaps a hand over his neck, and Yune throws his head back with a laugh. Kouyou smirks, stealing back his cigarette. "But seriously... the back of Yuu's van? If he finds out, he's gonna _kill_ you."

"Well, what he doesn't know..." Kouyou says, shrugging with a grin. Akira bumps Kouyou with his shoulder, throwing an arm around his waist and hugging him close. Kouyou looks up at Yune. "We really didn't make a mess, I promise."

"I'll vouch for you if he notices," Yune says, laughing. "Rambunctious kids."

Yuu and Takanori stumble up a few moments later. Takanori has his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans, burrowed so deep into his coat half his face is hidden in his collar. Yuu looks exhausted but pleased. "Good job tonight," he says, as he approaches the van, keys already in hand. "All packed?"

Kouyou bumps Akira with his shoulder, getting to his feet as he takes a final drag before dropping the butt to the parking lot and grinding out the ember with his shoe. Akira stumbles to follow, scrubbing a hand across his face and wincing when he bumps his nose. "Ready to go," Kouyou says, resting his chin on Akira's shoulder, laughing as Akira grumbles and shoves him off.

Takanori pulls a disgusted face, his nostrils flaring over the top of his scarf. "Why does it smell like jizz back here?"

Akira turns bright red. Kouyou bursts out laughing and crouches down to hide behind Akira like a shield, hugging him around the waist. _Busted._ "I don't know, blame the performance high!" he yelps, "It's not like we _planned_ it, it wasn't on purpose!"

When Kouyou risks peering around Akira's shoulder, he catches sight of Yuu staring at them, aghast. Takanori looks surprised but delighted by the whole situation unfolding like watching his favourite tv show. The corners of Yune's mouth keep twitching. Kouyou looks up. the blush in Akira's cheeks spreads down the nape of his neck, but he doesn't move out of Kouyou's grasp. 

"Ugh, seriously? I should make you guys walk home." Yuu shoves the back doors of the van shut and shakes his head. "You little fuckers better not have gotten anything on the floor." An odd shiver passes over his face. "Or my guitar. I swear I will fucking murder you both and make it look like an accident—"

"The idiots didn't make a mess," Yune pipes up at last, his voice hitching with laughter. He claps a hand on Yuu's shoulder, squeezing. Some of the tension trickles out of Yuu at the touch, Kouyou notices. "I checked everything over before you guys got here. Passed muster. I promise."

"Sorry, Yuu-kun," Akira says, scuffing his sneaker against the pavement. "It won't happen again."

"It's not okay, because— you're _nasty_, the back of the van? Really? In the _parking lot?_ Did you at least close the doors?" He shudders. "I know my van's a piece of shit, but _fuck_ you." Yuu heaves a heavy sigh, kicking the rear tire, the corner of his mouth quirking. "But thank you for apologizing. Don't do it again, you horny idiots— you couldn't have waited til you got home? Let's just— everyone just get in the fucking van." He scrubs a hand over his face with a laugh. "I want to go home already."

Everyone bursts into action, Yuu and Yune taking the front seats. Takanori smirks at Akira and Kouyou as he passes, sliding onto the seat in the back. He pats the spot beside him, wiggling his eyebrows. Akira snorts, climbing into the back beside him and leaving the window for Kouyou, as always.

"Do you want to split a pack of ramen with me when we get home?" Takanori whispers to Akira after Yuu peels out of the parking lot, beginning the hour-long drive home. 

Tipping his head to the side, Kouyou rests his head on Akira's shoulder with a soft sigh, staring up at the passing street lights shining on the ceiling of the van. He's close enough to feel Akira nod. He reaches out without looking, fingertips creeping across the narrow space between his thigh and Akira's until he finds Akira's hand. He laces their fingers together. Akira doesn't jump, but he squeezes Kouyou's hand. The corner of Kouyou's mouth quirks.

Kouyou drifts in and out, not quite asleep but not awake either. He hears Takanori's voice, rising loud and obnoxious and teasing, almost as if he were underwater. Akira's shoulder shakes beneath his head as he laughs, and Kouyou sits up with a crick in his neck to hear Yuu and Yune joining in. Yuu's laughter is bright and ringing as he pulls up to the curb outside Kouyou's building.

"You're such an asshole, Taka-kun," Yuu says, scrubbing a tired hand over his face, still laughing helplessly. Yune takes advantage of Yuu's distraction, reaching out lightning quick to switch the radio station to a pop song. Yuu makes a strangled noise, slapping out at Yune's hand, and Yune throws his head back with a laugh. Yuu turns in his seat, shaking his head. "I'll pick you guys up for practice tomorrow after I get off work, I guess," he says. "Do you want me to pick up anything on my way over?"

Almost as one, both Takanori and Akira begin to cry out suggestions for snacks, shoving at each other in their attempt to be heard. Kouyou just shakes his head, smiling as he meets Yuu's eyes. "Just your delightful self, Yuu-kun," he says, reaching out and sliding the door open. He clambers out of the van, circling around to the back to dig out his stuff. 

Akira and Takanori follow after him, still chattering excitedly about their favourite snacks, and Kouyou shakes his head again. Once he has everything, he pushes the door closed and taps on the rear window, waving through it towards Yuu and Yune. Yune twiddles his fingers back in an approximation of a wave goodbye, and Yuu pulls away from the curb, merging back into traffic and disappearing from sight. 

"Well," Kouyou says, turning. he gives Akira a Meaningful Look with eyebrows raised that he's not entirely sure the meaning of, but maybe Akira will know. Probably not. "Good show tonight," he says, picking up his equipment and leading the way inside their apartment building, holding the door open for them.

Takanori rolls his eyes so hard they nearly fall out of his head as he passes by. "Yeah, good show," he says, carrying an amp and a bundle of cables in his arms. "Good work tonight, both of you. I think that was one of our best lives yet." He tilts his head towards Akira, "Aki-chan, why is he being so weird?" he mumbles in undertone.

Akira blushes a pretty pink, and Kouyou stabs at the elevator call button with the corner of his guitar case. "I guess I have to suck his dick now, or something." He shrugs, grinning. "You know how it is."

Takanori goes silent for a full twenty seconds, which must be some sort of record. Finally, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment, staring between Kouyou and Akira. "Do you want me to go get snacks?" he asks, finally. "I can— I can go get snacks, if you—" Kouyou breaks, turning his head away to hide his laughter. "Fuck," Takanori continues, pointing between them. As the elevator doors roll open, he steps inside just to set down his burden and backs out into the lobby. "Alright — do we need more condoms? Lube? And beer, I'll get beer, too, and—"

"Wait, Taka-chan," Akira starts, but Takanori just waves him off, already halfway through the building doors. He turns to Kouyou with a hopeless expression. "Did I say something wrong?"

Kouyou shrugs, laughing as he moves into the elevator before they lose one of their amps and cables. "He probably just wants to watch." He laughs even harder at the face Akira pulls as he follows Kouyou into the elevator. "He's probably just— I don't know, I've never seen him embarrassed, but—"

"Taka-chan?" Akira says, laughing as he pushes the button for their floor. "Embarrassed?"

"Stranger things have happened," Kouyou says, all at once remembering the look on Akira's face as he'd licked cum from his fingertips. "We needed beer, anyway."

Akira laughs, leaning against Kouyou's shoulder. "I guess that's true. Hey," he says, tipping his head up. "Thanks for earlier, by the way. It was nice."

Kouyou ducks his head, swallowing. "Yeah," he agrees, after a moment. "Yeah, it was."

**Author's Note:**

> hello, friends! i hope you enjoyed this ridiculousness lmao ♥


End file.
